Living Nightmare
by Xavic
Summary: Even for the Eternal Nightmare, some things are better left unknown. An experience with the Lady of Luminosity forces him to learn this the hard way, and everything changes. Rated M for safety.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All names, places, and characters used in the following story are property of Riot Games.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1: Twisted Fateful Encounter<strong>_

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><p>The Fields of Justice were his playground. So many victims he could plague with nightmares beyond imagination. So many meatbags he could slash to bits all he wanted, only to see them come back moments later, fresh and ready for maiming anew. Sometimes, Nocturne could forget that he was trapped in a hellish prison created by the ones he wished dead. That was because he was in his element when inspiring terror upon his victims, be they human or not, or even his intended targets. While he was not free to roam and destroy the minds of those who now controlled him, destroying any opponents he found in battle was, by his standards, marginally acceptable for the time being, even if it meant temporarily subjecting his will to whatever whims his current controller had.<p>

Here, upon the fields, he could wreak havoc amongst those who opposed him, or even those he was supposed to consider part of his 'team'. Nocturne had no team. He cared not for the fleshling warriors he fought alongside. They were nothing but pawns made to help along as he tore to shreds all those who stood in his way. He would not hesitate to turn his blade upon anyone, and those who fought alongside him were no exception. If not for the control of his summoner when he was in battle, Nocturne would simply kill everyone around him. He was the embodiment of nightmares itself, and nightmares did not turn blind eyes, or pull any punches. They were terrifying, unrelenting, and unforgiving. Fighting a nightmare was impossible; all you could ever do was run from it, hoping to escape on to some better dream, where the light was there to protect you.

Such was the same with Nocturne. Once you were in his sight, and even when you weren't, death was inevitable. You could not escape; his Duskbringer would undoubtedly pull him that much closer. You could not fight; his Shroud of Darkness granted nigh invulnerability while he planted an Unspeakable Horror in your mind and shredded you apart with is Umbra Blades. And worst of all, you could not rely on anyone else; he would call down a veil of darkness and fear so strong, that Paranoia was inevitable.

It was in a living being's very nature to feel naught but horror just before they were cleft in twain.

However, there was one thing that Nocturne could not stand, and that was the opposite of darkness: light. It was not due to his nature that he could not bear to see light, for even in the light of the sun, nightmares like himself could still be seen, and all the better for they were in plain sight. No. It was the arrogance of those who sided with the light that he hated. Light was always claiming its superiority over the darkness, always keeping it within their grasp with a crushing fist. They did not know that if not for whatever gods above claiming that there should be light, it would not even exist in the first place. Darkness always preceded light, for no matter where it went, darkness was always there first. And yet darkness was reviled, while the light was revered.

But in some ways, the light and the dark were not very different. For example, Demacia and Noxus fashioned themselves as different sides, and assertively claimed that the two were not alike in any way, with Demacia being the light, and Noxus the dark. Yet both were heavily militarily aligned, each requiring a certain time in military service, one with a longer required period and life-long draft, the other with more stringent policies regarding service.

At least, Noxus, however, was more honest with itself than that of Demacia. Take the Iron Ambassador, Poppy, for instance. She tirelessly fought for her city-state, asserting its dominance, and conveying the messages of Demacia to the world through fights in the League of Legends. But since when did being an ambassador involve using a smithy's hammer – supposedly once belonging to her father, who was killed by Noxians – to beat to death the kinsmen of her father's killers? Was an ambassador not supposed to be a vanguard of peace between two opposing sides? What could she hope to achieve by fighting for her side this way? All she would do was paint the Noxian city-state in a negative light, fashioned after her own egotism and personal opinion.

Noxus had no need for such deception, and in Nocturne's opinion, Noxus was a much more 'virtuous' than it's supposed 'light' counterpart.

There was also one person he loathed even more than the fake image Demacia presented to the world, with its 'paragon of life' and 'valuable morals' perpetuated throughout its existence. This one person, aside from being someone who embodied his opposite, also took the side of the same phony image he had grown to despise.

The Lady of Luminosity, Luxanna Crownguard.

Her control over light magic was of little importance to him. Though she was annoying in combat for a fleshbag, she was still nothing more than a target for him to rip apart just like the rest. His reason for hating the teenager was because she took the persona of Demacia, and amplified it many times over. She was overly cheerful and optimistic, acting as a constant beacon of happiness for those around her. She thrived in battle, serving her side of conflict with a fervor matched only by her brother, Garen.

But most of all, she seemed to have absolutely no problem facing Nocturne in battle. He'd fought with her only twice before, and both times, even when faced with a one-on-one battle, Lux never lost her smile. And once, when he was venturing through the halls of the League, he passed by the young blonde, and she didn't even as much as flinch at his presence. Even worse, she had chosen to _smile and wave at him._

For the embodiment of nightmares itself, this could be seen as little more than a blatant insult to his very existence. It had taken every drop of whatever self control Nocturne had to not run his Umbra Blades through her heart in that single instant.

Ever since the second of those battles had come to pass, Nocturne swore upon his very being that the next time he encountered the Lady of Luminosity on the Fields of Justice he would spend that battle making sure that she knew fear. That she had no right to smile like that all the time when someone like him was around. That she had every reason to be afraid of the Eternal Nightmare.

And that chance was now.

It was winter on the Summoner's Rift. The trees were dead, providing little shade from the foreboding gray clouds that hung over the war zone. Magic torches hung from the walls of every path, shedding an erratic but reassuring firelight across every corner of the field. Every corner, of course, except for where Nocturne stood. Or rather, floated; where Nocturne went, a trail of chilling darkness always followed him, and wherever he chose to stand/float, a curtain of darkness fell over his position. The tip of the wisp comprising his lower body impatiently tapped the ground in anticipation, spawning a small pool of black that rippled every time he struck it again. The two sets of red-white blades growing from his arms itched, urging him to sink them into flesh and bone before they shriveled and died of starvation. But he had to remain patient for the time being. The brush would do well in hiding him before the coming assault.

In a way, Nocturne couldn't believe his luck. Two of the many summoners of the League had gotten into a petty argument over a matter that Nocturne did not care to remember. And in order to settle the argument, the two had agreed to set out in the dead of night, when everyone else would be asleep, to settle it once and for all on the Fields of Justice. Of course, doing something like this was forbidden, as the summoning process was dangerous, and one that had to be carefully monitored at all times, but both parties were willing to eschew the rules for a single night. They would do battle on the Summoner's Rift with each picking their single favorite champion for the battle. No minions would be spawned, nor would any turrets be active for this fight, and whoever could kill the opposing champion first would be declared the winner.

Such was the situation as explained to Nocturne by the summoner who had chosen him. But of course, none of that mattered to him. All that mattered was the fact that he was here, and his adversary was none other than the one he loathed the most: Lux.

And there she was now.

Through the gaps in the brush, he saw her pass. She was strolling down nonchalantly, arms behind her head and baton loosely dangling from her fingers. Her form-fitting battle armor clinked a bit as her greaves scuffed noisily against the dirt.

Though Nocturne was never one to draw any conclusions, seeing the Lady of Luminosity alone like this caused him to remember the words of several summoners he passed on occasion (at least, the ones who didn't flee in terror the instant he was within sight range). Despite being trapped in an infernal prison devised by the head summoner who had first capture him, Nocturne was allowed certain amounts of free time over the course of the day when he could wander the League of Legends unhindered so long as he did not harm anyone during any of his ventures, and a single slip would mean that he would be locked in his usual chamber around the clock unless called to the Fields of Justice. While he hated the way he was somehow being pitied despite the destruction he had caused before his capture, he was not stupid, and knew that any time he could spend out of his chains was preferable to being contained. So he endured the urge to slash apart everything in sight whenever he was released, instead, satisfying himself through the looks of horror he received any time he silently drifted down a hall, and the terrified screams of those who fled.

And of course, whenever he wanted to, Nocturne could just melt into the shadows, remaining out of view until he chose to reveal himself and frighten anyone in range.

That aside, he would occasionally pass by groups of summoners (while unnoticed, of course) that talked about their favorite champions, or the ones they believed to be 'the most beautiful' or 'the coolest' in their personal opinions. Though it seldom happened, Nocturne would hear his own name during one of these conversations, and whenever this happened, he would take a mental picture and make a note to kill that summoner as quickly and painlessly as possible as a reward if he ever broke free of his chains (scary would also be a part of a list of possible compliments). But any time he heard the name Lux, he would almost immediately jump from the shadows in front of the one who did so. The group would dissolve instantly, the summoners running and screaming in every direction as he filled their thoughts with nightmares in as mild a dose as possible, so as to not drive them insane despite how much he wanted to. Naturally, he saved the largest – though still much smaller than normal – dose for the idiot that touched his nerve, causing whoever it was to remain in their room for sometimes days afterward, refusing to come out. Of course, the person wasn't driven insane, so the head summoners couldn't come down on him for leaving a victim curable.

But looking back on it now, he would most often hear Lux's name when being described as 'cute' or 'useful in fights'. As much as he loathed hearing even her name, Nocturne could not quite deny either as a simple opinion. For a fleshbag, and when taken from the point of view of a fleshbag (something that Nocturne was actually fairly good at doing), Lux _did_ have some form of attractiveness around her that didn't quite apply to the other female champions that would be called 'beautiful'. Calling her 'dazzling' would be more fitting, due to a strange phenomenon that Nocturne noticed; sometimes, whenever light shined upon the Lady of Luminosity, she would shimmer along with it, sometimes turning invisible in plain sight.

As for the latter part of the description, Nocturne could easily see why a summoner would say that, even though he'd only fought against her twice before; she could very easily trap an opponent with her Light Binding and leave them hanging just moments before using her most powerful light spell, Finales Funkeln, to blow them into oblivion. If that wasn't enough, or the situation didn't call for it, her Lucent Singularity would be more than enough to slow someone down in order to set up a teammate, often protected courtesy of her Prismatic Barrier, for the kill.

Being on the receiving end of it was, obviously, painful. Very few champions could face both combos at once and live.

But Nocturne wasn't going to give her a chance to use either.

_What are you waiting for? Go get her!_

And there was his summoner, giving a command. The Eternal Nightmare snarled inwardly. _Silence! Are you a fool that wishes to lose more quickly? Wait for her to drop her guard._

_What are you talking about? I chose you because you're able to kill quickly and efficiently. Just slash her apart and be done with it._

_If only it were so easy. You do not need to tell me what to do, summoner. _He spat the last word with distaste. _I would be more than glad to rip her to shreds. You need only say the word, and I shall do it on my own time._

For a few moments, the echoing inside his mind quieted. Then…

_Do it._

Nocturne laughed, and knew that if he had a mouth that it would be stretched out in a smile. This, he would enjoy.

All of a sudden, Lux began talking aloud. "So what was the argument again?"

Her bright, cheery voice rang with disgust for Nocturne. She was chatting with her summoner.

"Oh, so that's it?" she giggled, bouncing up and down on her heels and toes. "Well alright then. All I have to do is take out the other champion, right? Then in the name of Demacia, I'll punish him!"

Unfathomable rage boiled up inside him. She walked so carelessly, talked so frivolously, and still had the nerve to say _she_ would punish _him?_

He would see to it that she paid for that arrogant remark.

With all his might, Nocturne summoned the powers of darkness buried within him. Fueled by rage, he nearly exploded with black power, scattering an immense black cloud over the entire field of the Summoner's Rift. Once that was done, he melted away, joining the infinite expanse of shadows he created.

"Ahahaha….." It was something that seemed caught between a rasp and a cackle. It boomed out, echoing around and around, caught within the clouds from which it came. "All alone in the darkness…."

"Oh, here he comes," Lux pointed out needlessly. She raised her baton, and in a second, a perfectly spherical force field enveloped her.

Such a pitiful shield would do nothing against him.

"You… cannot… escape!"

The being of shadows attacked, diving out towards his prey at fantastic speed. His Umbra Blades lashed out, crashing into the Prismatic Barrier with incredible force. So much force, that the impact echoed out, shattering the very earth beneath the light mage. The shield cracked, and broke apart, sending the Lady of Luminosity flying.

Nocturne did not let up, charging at his prey once more. Lux, though surprised, did not intend to lose, rolling with the landing and throwing out her Light Binding spell. A murderous cackle issued forth as Nocturne cloaked himself in his Shroud of Shadows. The ropes of pure light dissipated harmlessly against the shield, just as his Duskbringer burst forth, seizing the unfortunate teenager. With a single, immense heaving motion, Nocturne lifted the mage, brought her all the way back to him, and smashed her into the floor. Lux choked and coughed, spitting out a bit of blood.

But before she could get back up, the Eternal Nightmare was already upon her. His arms swung in a dervish, his blades singing with delight as they sank into human flesh. Both her arms and legs were hit with deep slashes, and she lay limply on the floor, unable to get her limbs to move and having lost grip of her baton. Numerous lacerations were scattered across her torso, her battle armor unable to protect her.

But she was still alive.

Nocturne yelled in triumph, having conquered his greatest nemesis.

"How does it feel?" he asked, staring down at the enemy he had so utterly broken. He had all the time in the world now, to toy with this fleshbag all he wanted. And he was going to enjoy it. "You have lost, Lady of Luminosity!"

Light blue eyes that also cycled through a myriad of colors blinked, staring back at the pure whites that comprised his own.

And she did the exact thing he hated the most.

She smiled back in his face.

"I guess I have. I hate it when a plan doesn't come together."

Shocked, Nocturne recoiled. For a couple seconds, he didn't do anything other than stare at the face of his broken enemy.

And his fist clenched.

But with every bit of his willpower, Nocturne refrained from beheading the teenage girl. Instead, he converted his rage, little by little, into a rising laugh. Not quite an evil laugh, as darkness was not evil by nature. It was nothing more than a laugh.

"You are bold… I'll allow you a tiny bit of credit for that. You are bold… but stupid. Very stupid, even for a fleshbag. You have the nerve to _smile_ in _my_ face? I will make you fear me!"

His eyes flashed, glossing over with an ungodly red, and two thin beams of black-red energy lanced out, attacking Lux's mind. She did not cry out, but her face was washed over with shock.

"Let me see... what your greatest nightmare is..."

It was a process Nocturne had done multiple times before. Before he had gained a physical body, when he was still able to freely roam through the pitiful minds of humans in their sleep, and draw from within them their most hated memories, their greatest fears. And once he did so, he would amplify them, overwhelming his victim with a storm of terror so horrific it render them either screaming endlessly, catatonic, or dead. It was his most powerful skill.

Nocturne let his newfound consciousness drift away, channeling down into the beams of energy into the mind of his prey. From there, he began scanning, searching for the information he was looking for. Images flashed past him at quick pace as he filtered through everything he did not need. Battles on the Fields of Justice, shared moments with summoners and champions alike outside the Fields, training in the Demacian military. All were things he did not need. He continued to filter out what he didn't need, until….

Until….

He found nothing. Nothing at all

His consciousness snapped back into reality.

Now _he_ was the one who was horrified.

Never before….

Never before, had he ever found person whose deepest, darkest fear he could not discover. Never before, had he ever failed to terrify someone.

Never before… had _he_ ever felt fear for himself.

_How…? How can this be? HOW?_

A ghost of a smile touched the one that was supposed to be petrified. "You can find a nightmare when the person is already living in it, can you?"

All time froze at those words. Even the air itself decided to stop humming, and the sound of the burning torches died away.

Nothing happened.

Until the Eternal Nightmare howled with rage.

A single arm shattered the still air, bringing down an Umbra Blade to cleave the Lady of Luminosity almost cleanly in two. The usual white cloud of a departing spirit being saved by summoner magic flowed out, and the body was whisked away, vanishing in several pillars of light. As was standard for her death.

_Yes! You did it!_

The voice of the summoner was ignored. For a few moments more, the shadow stood there, nearly catatonic.

Without a word, he turned and drifted away, heading for the spawning well to be sent back.

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><p><em><strong><span>Author's Notes:<span>**_

Why hello there! What are you doing here?

So... if you came here due to an author alert that you set in place after reading my previous story, Unparalleled Ayakashi Incident, then yay, you just had a dose of something completely different~ (that is, if you read the whole thing of course) If the above reason does not apply to you, and you simply stumbled upon this while scouring the rather small League of Legends section of fanfiction, then yay, you picked up the story of a somewhat-insecure, not-so-confident writer~

Well... actually, the latter half of the second above statement doesn't quite fit anymore. I've been gaining in confidence with the apparent success of my first story, so I'm not exactly not-so-confident as of now. But enough of that. I'll stop there before I run off rambling. Anyways...

As odd as it's going to sound, yes, this _will_ be a romantically-aligned story. For those of you who've played League of Legends, or vaguely know the characters if you haven't, then you're probably going to be scratching your head, thinking "Wait, what? Lux and Nocturne?" Even if you have no idea who these people are, and have never even _heard_ of League of Legends, you'll probably still think that, given how I described the two of them. So yes, for the most part - actually, scratch that, _definitely_, for all intensive purposes - this is a crack pairing. It was actually suggested by a friend of mine on this site, who goes under the pen name of harukashinigami4 (and unfortunately inactive, but hopefully coming back soon), when discussing over AIM about crack pairings around the League. Then haruka suggested _this_ pairing, and lo and behold, the idea has come into fruition.

And, hopefully, I will be able to make this work. The idea is pretty solid in my head, and I have a feeling this will be at least somewhat smoothly written. But we'll see.

Of course, I won't be updating this very often, since this time I'm actually posting what I write instead of writing a bunch then posting it later (as opposed to UAI). And on top of that, I'm going to be absent for a whole week after this weekend, so it's going to be pretty slow going. But I'll mind that later, and to all that read this pilot chapter on what should (hopefully) be a somewhat good story, thank you for your time, and I hope you enjoyed it~ Reviews and criticism will be greatly appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All names, places, and characters used in the following story are property of Riot Games.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Going Hys-Taric-al<strong>

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><p><em>How is this possible? No one has ever been able to keep me from invading and taking from within them their greatest terror. What makes that blasted Lady of Luminosity any different?<em>

It was a couple days after the Eternal Nightmare's fight with Lux. Being a creature composed of darkness itself, he never slept nor rested, so he spent this entire time running the exact same questions looping endlessly through his head. Only days later, and it was already slowly turning into an obsession.

But what could one expect? Nocturne had never before failed to scare the daylights out of any fleshbag (or non-fleshbag) he encountered. Not even the most stoical people such as Shen, the most insane like Shaco, or inhuman like Blitzcrank were immune to him. The Eye of Twilight valued equilibrium above all else – except for maybe his teammate Akali, from what Nocturne could see – and feared that equilibrium being overturned right before his eyes. The Demon Jester, being not so right in the head, hated the prospect of being normal, when he would no longer be the terrifying clown he was now. A mechanical heart and mind were hardly any different from normal ones, and within the metallic depths of the Great Steam Golem rested the fear of losing the freedom he had gained from Zaun. Lux shared none of their traits, and in fact should have been one of the most vulnerable out of anyone else in the League, yet she was the only one to ever escape his grasp.

Why? What in all of Runeterra could have possibly made someone like the Lady of Luminosity immune to his nightmare-seeking ability?

The strange thing was, Nocturne wasn't unaware of the chances of some people taking the effects of his nightmare powers much better than others. Sometimes, an outside factor relating to the person's greatest nightmare would cause a different reaction to the usual kicking and screaming that afflicted most of his victims. This was especially true with the champions of the League of Legends.

A prime example would be the one named Master Yi, as he had the most notable and severe change. The massacre of his entire village in Ionia served as a constant torment for him, as Nocturne knew well, and it was a scene that would nearly send chills down his _own_ nonexistent spine. However, if he tried to force-feed large doses of it into the Wuju Bladesman, the usual reaction would not occur. The man would not cry, nor would he scream. Instead, the visions would drive him mad, sending him into a nigh unstoppable berserker rage in which naught but one person had ever been able to coax him out of, with his skill nearly unmatched, and rage seeming almost infinite. By this point, a good summoner would turn that wrath upon the enemy team, as a rampaging Master Yi would tear through nearly anything in his path, though also with reckless abandon. A bad summoner would lose control entirely, and Yi would unleash all his pent-up aggression and fury upon everything in range – even his own teammates – until he was brought down.

Nocturne discovered this the first time he ever faced the master. The few other times he chanced upon the master on the Fields again, he would do the same simply for his own amusement, though it was a coin toss, determining whether Master Yi would direct his anger at the enemy, or everything. Only once had anyone ever been able to talk Yi out of it, and it was a feat done by Irelia, the Will of the Blades. She was a woman of equal skill, equal fervor, but greater control, and it required a minute-long fight full of talking, and the accumulation of multiple injuries on both sides – a couple of which may have been life-threatening – in order to accomplish this. Had Soraka the Starchild not been there, the two probably would have succumbed to their injuries almost on the spot.

Aside from those who would act differently, there were also those who Nocturne would refuse to even attempt his deadly skill on. For example, Reneketon, the Butcher of the Sands, was in a perpetual state of rage and irreversible temper, so the possibility of losing himself in the same rage was there. Zilean, the Chronokeeper, was a distinct example as well. Though Nocturne was aware of what was supposed to make the old man tick, due to his affliction of chrono-displasia, trying to sift through his memory for a potential nightmare was like finding a needle in a haystack - one that was _constantly moving _because his mentality would often not remain anchored in a single moment of time for more than a few moments. As a result, the potential of contracting something similar was incredibly high.

Of course, the two above were not the only ones Nocturne would not dare touch. But that didn't mean he would do nothing. Oh, he would scare them, certainly, but he would resort to much more conventional methods concerning people such as them, like generic terrifying thoughts and images such as the messiness of death or the madness of war, amplified multiple times to overwhelm his unfortunate target. Sometimes, it would work fine. Other times, he would need a catalyst of some kind, such as surprise or – his personal preference – pain.

Not that either of those had mattered during that single match. He had surprised the Lady of Luminosity with an immense show of strength, speed, and destructive power. He had brought pain, to the point that she couldn't even move.

Yet he had _nothing to show for it_. He may have defeated her in battle, but she had still won.

And her victory had denied his very existence. What was he, when there was a single person out there that could not be frightened by him in any way?

That was the number one question he continued asking himself as he drifted down the halls of the Institute of War. Over the previous two days, he had not been called back to the Fields of Justice, so he had been given semi-free reign to wander the many twists and turns that composed this monstrosity of a building. Magic sculpted the foundation from the mountain. Stone brick stabilized the construct. Techmaturgy gave additional life to the insides. The result was a building a hundred feet tall, with enough room within its walls to house the seventy or so champions (if they were ever here, which they sometimes were), summoners numbering over twenty thousand, and even more space used for spectators that chose to watch the match live at the Institute of War, which would usually go up to tens of thousands more.

Of course, Nocturne only knew this because he had never left the Institute of War before. Being bound to a nexus fragment, he was forced to remain here, as the fragment was never moved. It always remained stowed away in some chamber beneath the Institute. Where it was, he never cared to remember. All he knew what that the familiar tug of its magic was plaguing him even now, refusing to allow him get much more than a few hundred meters to a mile away.

Damn that accursed summoner that had managed to seal him here! Now he was stuck here with no way to return to his previous state, and was now assailed by the affairs he was currently dealing with. So far, he had been patient, and these last months had been difficult but not impossible to bear. Now, his patience was wearing thin.

But what could he do? He was their prisoner, and completely under their control. The only way he would possibly be able to break free of his imprisonment would be one of a three options; have his physical body and consciousness be completely eradicated, find a way to sever his bond with the nexus fragment, or destroy the entire Institute of War.

The first option was, obviously, out of the question. Aside from the most apparent reason why he would not want to die, he had grown used to living. He enjoyed being able to physically witness the terror he could only mentally instill in his victims before, and as such could only feel through a mental link. The joys of experiencing it first hand, and in person, were far greater than any form of glee he could achieve before.

The second option was a possibility Nocturne had considered, but decided to drop. Summoner magic was dangerous, and, naturally, it was that exact magic that had bound him to the nexus fragment. Improper severance from the tiny crystal would result in catastrophic consequences for him, with the most forgiving, perhaps, being a complete destruction of his existence. Since his rejection to the first option mean that part of his goal was to live, running a risk like that was impractical. He would have to first find a proper way to anchor his physical body to this plane without the use of an object-based tether, and then find a person willing to do the deed in the first place.

The third option was the most promising, but was just as dangerous, if not even more so than either of the above. This was the Institute of War, filled with creatures of magical and mundane nature, many of which who were more than capable of defeating him, or at least stalling him until reinforcements arrived. Attempting to destroy a place like this, with no allies and far too many enemies, was tantamount to suicide. The moment the thought had crossed his mind, Nocturne had immediately denied it.

He was completely, thoroughly trapped, with no options, no escape possible, and nothing but a single target that had managed to beat him get to him like nothing ever before.

"GRAAAAH!"

KRRSH!

"Eek!"

He had gotten lucky. Just a little more to the left and the female summoner he had managed to miss would have lost much more than a lock of hair. The wall, obviously, was much less fortunate, and it would take a while for the crack to be repaired.

The sound coming from Nocturne that may have been akin to breathing came out heavily, evenly. He was well aware that there were probably more than just a couple summoners staring at him, wondering what in the name of Icathia could have gotten into him. But he paid them no mind. Normally, this sort of attention would have provoked him to force nightmares into everyone around him. But he wasn't in the mood for doing that.

Or rather, he was in the _perfect_ mood for doing just that, but knew that if he gave into his desire, he would not stop. He knew just enough self control to not unleash his fiery rage upon all these 'innocent bystanders'. He would have to save it for a time when he was called to the Fields of Justice. There, he would exact his revenge, be it misaimed or not.

Nocturne withdrew his blade from the newly made crack in the wall, and carefully examined it. Not a chip or scratch. At least having his weapons growing from his arms had some conveniences; while he had to be cautious not to cut anyone since they were non-retractable, they were near-indestructible.

His empty eyes glanced back to the summoner now curling up against the wall in terror. Simple brown-black hair, black eyes, and a plain face. She seemed normal, but her mind was weak, and in a single glance, Nocturne divined that her fear lay within the idea she would not be accepted by those around her. It was only natural, being a fresh face in the League of Legends.

Once he was done 'perp-sweating' the newbie, Nocturne whirled around to see who else was still staring at him. A fair number remained, but the ten or so summoners fled the instant he turned upon them, hurriedly walking or outright running. As they rightfully should be. Then again, Nocturne was slightly surprised; it was difficult to look upon him for an extended period of time, since he naturally radiated fear, and those who took too long to turn away were susceptible to being haunted by him in their sleep.

It was quite amusing, this fact. He actually stumbled upon it by chance when he was drifting by a pair of summoners unnoticed and one of them raised the point. It gave him slight comfort, remembering that naught but his presence was necessary to force others weak of mind or heart to lose themselves.

His head slowly turned, looking back behind him out of the corner of his eye. The summoner was still there.

His voice rasped "And you are still there, why?"

The girl gasped, nodded vigorously as if having received a command, and ran off.

He watched her go. What a fool. Those weak of heart had no place in the Institute of War.

Without another word, Nocturne placed a hand on the wall, and began sinking into it. Soundlessly, his entire body joined the shadows splashed across the perpetual twilight within the halls of the Institute of War. Being built into the side of a mountain, it was convenient for someone like Nocturne; where there were no lanterns, there were shadows, and if there was no shadow but low enough light, he could make his own. Magic lanterns lined the halls, but not quite enough to illuminate every corner of the hall, and wherever it was convenient, he could choose any spot of his pleasing and become one with the shadows to avoid notice, or the inverse if he wished to scare someone.

Due to his constant wonderings of the many twists and turns that comprised this building, Nocturne knew the entire place like the back of his wristblade (his hand could not be used for accurate measure, as there were no defining features on it whatsoever), and could choose any route he wanted to take in order to traverse it. There had even been times when he simply hid away to observe the people who passed by a given location, and find a good time to pop out when the most people were present. However, at the current moment, the path he was taking was the longest one possible, so as to consume as much time as he possibly could. The hours were toiling against him, and he needed a way to spend them. Pacing had always been his way of killing time, since there were normally many ways for him to enjoy himself even as he levitated. Now, he was enjoying none of those usual methods, far too caught up in his current dilemma to even partake in them.

As slowly as possible, Nocturne silently slogged by, darting in and out of the shadows made by walking summoners and dodging the lights of the lanterns. An odd point Nocturne had discovered was that if he was suddenly exposed to a potent light source shining upon the spot he was currently inhabiting – which took up about a couple square meters of flexible space – then he would fall out of that spot in a rather painful fashion similar to an adhesive being torn from a person's skin. This sort of thing only happened if the exposure was without warning, such as a wild arm gesture blocking a light and being taken away the next second. If he simply waded his own way into the presence of a light, he would feel a force gradually pulling him out instead of the unceremonious ripping experienced otherwise.

This sort of occurrence had only managed to happen a total of twice over the course of Nocturne's many daily excursions, the first due to not knowing, and the second due to carelessness. Now, at this present time, he was challenging himself with this knowledge, using it as some form of game. Moving through the shadows was fluid and quick for him, though it did take some focus so as to not fall out on accident or move some way he did not want. For this reason, Nocturne focused his attention on moving, flitting between walking summoners and watching their actions in order to react accordingly. He dared the light to try and catch him, to expose him from his little hiding spot. Back and forth, he danced across the boundary between light and shadow, allowing the latter to embrace him and brushing the fingertips of the former.

He wanted to get his mind off his current problem. Devoting his energy to a different, irrelevant task was a way of doing that.

Unfortunately for him, his pastime wouldn't last long. While the path he was currently taking took up the most possible time, it also caused him to pass the most possible people. Normally this wasn't a problem, as the summoners he passed were of little to no importance, and he seldom ever saw any champions. If he _did_ see a champion, he would exhume an aura of fear, letting those weary of him know that he was there, watching, untouchable and unable to be seen. It was amusing, and these opportunities rarely cropped up, so he would take any chance he could.

This would be the only time he would ever pass up one of those chances, because the champion he found was, as fate would have it, Lux.

The Lady of Luminosity was talking candidly with a pair of male summoners, both who seemed a little too happy for their own good. It was almost all too obvious that one or both were smitten with the teenage girl to some degree. Honestly, on a normal day, this would be the perfect opportunity for Nocturne to let loose his fear factor, and wash the two summoners over with prospects they would not want to imagine.

This was as far from a normal day as it could possibly get for Nocturne.

He stared at Lux's face for who knew how long, quietly examining it for any possible signs of having been effected by the occurrence that had been afflicting Nocturne these past few days.

And he found nothing. Nothing at all.

Were Nocturne someone else, this would most likely be the moment when he leapt from the shadows in anger, whirling his blades around so as to cut down the lives that sat so utterly unaware of his presence. Of course, that was exactly the kind of person he was. Fortunately for his victims, however, he wasn't stupid enough to take the bait. To take it would mean his immediate execution via Demacian demands.

Though he loathed the obvious fact, his wish to be rid of Lux could not be fulfilled.

With a grunt, Nocturne turned to leave.

"Oh my!"

The exclamation was enough to turn his head back.

The Lady of Luminosity looked cheerful as ever, as she always did. "Look at the time. I'm sorry, but I have to run. I have some things to take care of. It was good talking to you two!"

"Anytime!" the first summoner responded.

"Any chance of coming to dinner with us tonight?" the second one offered. "We'd love to have you."

"No thank you," Lux turned down politely. "I don't know how long these matters will take. And I could be called to the Fields at any given time, so don't wait for me."

To that, the two summoners quickly thanked her for her time, and strode off. How naïve of them. The former was obviously a lie, and the latter was a truth so thin so as to be nonexistent. Not that they knew that, and there was no need to say anything.

Knowing no one could hear him, Nocturne snorted with derision, and once again turned to leave. There was no reason for him to stay.

Yet it seemed fate would not leave him alone.

Nocturne continued down the hall he was going. But something didn't feel quite right. The hall was supposed to be empty at around this time, if he remembered correctly. So why couldn't he shake off the feeling that something in the atmosphere felt odd?

Fearing the worst, he paused. And turned his gaze behind him.

Gods above and below. Was Lux _following_ him?

How could that even be possible? He was perfectly invisible in this state as long as he stuck to the shadows. No one could feel his presence, not even those with senses near-superhuman. Once more, Lux was proving herself to be absolutely incredible. And, in Nocturne's opinion, not in a good way.

He snarled, and began moving more quickly, finding the straightest possible path where the light would not reach him. Once he had gone a fair amount of distance, he stopped, and began backtracking, heading for a second hallway, and turned down that way.

Then he looked back.

Lux was still there.

Now his patience was wearing thin. Very thin. What in the world was this girl _made of?_ She showed she was immune to his nightmare-seeking ability first, and now she was proving that even hiding in the shadows made no difference to her? What would she do next? Expose him from his hiding spot?

"I know you're there, Nocturne."

The fact that the teenager was directly addressing him made the voice grate against his consciousness. Nocturne stared at Lux with venom, but made no move.

To his immense dissatisfaction and rage, Lux was still smiling at him. "Magic's kind of odd sometimes, you know. When you start specializing in a specific branch of it, you start becoming more attuned to that as your natural element, and get more sensitive to its presence around you. Janna is kind of like this; she was apparently already well suited for air magic, but continued study made it a part of her, which is why she's the way she is now. Something like this is probably going to happen to Annie too, once she gets older, and given how powerful she is, she'll probably even expand outward to many other elemental magics."

Silence.

"And you tell me this, why?" Nocturne responded vocally. There was no point in trying to hide his presence any longer, since she knew he was there anyways, but he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of seeing him physically.

"Oh! You can still talk to people when you're like that?" Lux said in surprise. "That's cool~ What other things can you do? Can you still interact physically with things? Do your powers still work? What about-"

"State your business or leave, Lady of Luminosity!" Nocturne interrupted, effectively cutting off her barrage of questions. "I have no need to speak with the likes of you."

He was very serious about the latter half of that statement. His personal quarrel with Lux had a small part to do with it, but it was also due to his reputation. He was Nocturne, the Eternal Nightmare. No one ever came to him with business. _No one._ And frankly, he intended to keep it that way. If anyone were to find out that Lux actually had the guts to directly confront him face-to-face (or face-to-ceiling, as the case would be), his image as the most terrifying being on Runeterra would be utterly shattered.

"Alright then," Lux agreed. She almost seemed even _happier_ about the fact that he had even bothered to allow her time to say what she wanted to say, and not even caring about how little he really wanted it.

"Well, you're curious about how I was able to know you were there, right?"

Perhaps not 'curious', no. That wasn't quite the right word, but Nocturne had to admit that how she managed such a feat was certainly enough to warrant yet another reason for why he wanted to kill her. Consequently, since killing her wasn't an option, he didn't have anything to do other than have his questions answered.

Lux answered his unspoken 'consent' to continue speaking. "I'm the same case as the other two I mentioned earlier. My alignment with light magic makes me sensitive to its presence."

As if to press the point home, she took a couple steps into the light of a lantern, and almost on cue, she began to shimmer along with it, and in a moment, she vanished. Just a few seconds later, she reappeared.

"It's probably the reason why I'm able to disappear like this. Though I've never been able to stop it from happening, so I don't know. But that aside, being sensitive to an element also means that you feel sensitive to the lack of that element. Janna never has to deal with this, since air is everywhere, but Annie is always aware when fire isn't around her, or when someone lights a match in a nearby room if there wasn't any before, and other small things like that.

"The same thing happens with me. Even when there's no light, I know much of what happens around me because I'm surrounded by the opposite; shadow, darkness, and all that. So whenever you're nearby, or something is happening in the darkness, I know what's going on. And I always know you're there."

Lux quieted down, allowing the new knowledge to sink in.

Nocturne was balancing on a very thin tightrope now. The tiniest mistake, and he would fall. That fall would, of course, involve diving out of the shadows blade first and impaling Lux.

_That_ was her explanation? Preposterous! That essentially meant that no matter where Nocturne was, whether he was hiding or not, Lux would always be able to feel his presence. Every single time he had floated or shadow-walked past her, she had already known he was there, and it had served as a dull surprise for her. Was he _nothing_ to this girl?

But what else did that mean? Did that mean that he, Nocturne, was the one who could not escape? No matter where he went, Lux would always be able to find him and, if she so chose to, find a way to get closer.

Nocturne shoved the thought as far back into his consciousness as he possibly could. No. _No!_ That simply couldn't be possible! He refused to accept it! Haunting the minds of others was _his_ job. He was the _Eternal Nightmare!_

He would have to prove that to Lux somehow. He would make sure that she _knew her place!_

But that time was not now.

"… Very well…" Nocturne spat reluctantly, in as controlled of a fashion as he could manage. "Now state your business, or leave. If that is all you had to say, then I will not remain here."

"Alright," she agreed, smiling the same smile he loathed. "But you know, this is something I want to discuss face-to-face. Would you mind coming out?"

"Insolent girl!" Nocturne roared. "If that is your wish, then I have nothing more to say to you!" He turned away, ready to leave.

"If that's the case…."

Unknown to Nocturne, Lux always kept her wand baton collapsed and stored in a pocket of her armor any time she wasn't using it. At this moment, she quickly drew it out, snapped it out to full length, and shined a massive ray of light out, spraying across a large section of the ceiling and spilling over onto the walls.

"_Argh!"_

Nocturne fell to the floor face first. His body made no noise. His blades, on the other hand, hit the carpet with a rather loud clang.

"If you won't come out on your own, then I'll just have to force you out, won't I?"

Nocturne lifted himself part-way off the floor, and stared up with wide, white eyes.

Lux was leaning down over him. Smiling all the while.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Author's Notes:<span>**_

Holy crap, this seriously took way too long. But alas, it's a serious problem I've found out about my writing; I'm very good at ordering out events as they happen, knowing what points will happen when and any changes that may be needed to accommodate character development or whatever, but I'm not-so-good at chaining said events together.

Not only that, but trying to get into Nocturne's head regarding his current situation, interactions with others, and whatever other tidbits that may be interesting, was _hard_. Most of this time was spent trying to figure out stuff to talk about/explain.

As things stand, however, I'm proud to have been able to finally finish this after more than a month of (trying to) work. And on the day just before I head back to school for my senior year, no less. I deeply apologize to all those who read the first chapter so long ago.

To be honest, the reception for the pilot chapter was surprisingly positive. I had no idea so many people would be so interested in a work like this, and I heartily thank all those who have read, reviewed, or otherwise interacted with this story. I hope I don't disappoint.

Enough of that rambling. Time for some actual comments.

I seem to have fallen into an odd strand of idiosyncratic chapter naming. I'm expecting every chapter in this whole work being an odd combination of a champion name combined with whatever goes with the chapter. It's really not too hard to figure out, of course. But I was just pointing it out, since the name of the first chapter wasn't just for show.

Honestly, one of the points I don't really like about games like League of Legends is that, oftentimes, they're rather restrictive on what can and can't happen with/to the people they create. Of course, it's rather obvious why it would be that way, as trying to expand too much would be far too difficult and time consuming due to so many variables having to be juggled, but it's also slightly irritating that so much potential is being wasted. That being said, this is also one of the points I love best about these kinds of games, since it leaves the potential to whoever is playing the game to take it and expand it however they wish. Like Nocturne's Duskbringer from the previous chapter. It's a gigantic shadowy hand that just damages whatever it passes through. _Boring._ Give it some _function_, why don't ya?

If it isn't obvious by this point, then yes, I will be changing around a few things. Most notably, some skills may not be present (sorry Tryndamere, but no spinning for you), or they'll function differently from normal, or I'll throw in a few new ones if I see that there's the possibility of doing so (this said, Ezreal will be particularly fun to play around with). It's like everyone will get an upgrade from the same boring character, to being like Ryze in the promotional video (which was incredibly badass) and then some. I'm seriously hoping I don't screw this part up, such as adding too much or completely changing the whole image of a character. But the challenge will certainly be interesting. We'll see.

Thank you all for being so patient. I hope the next chapter doesn't take nearly as long, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter~


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All names, places, and characters used in the following story are property of Riot Games.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: Efforts All In Vayne<strong>

WHOSH!

Nocturne was fast. Far faster than most would believe, since he was a being of shadow, and as such was not chained down by physical limitations beyond that of being unable to expand or compact his body in any way, or flight past his usual levitation. Any other form of movement was basically fair game.

As such, when it came down to it, Nocturne could essentially be as fast as he really wanted at any given moment. Which was why nothing could stop him from leaping off the floor in an instant and having his blade at Lux's throat the next.

"You…" Nocturne growled, just barely managing to keep his hand from moving another few centimeters to nick Lux's neck. As it was, his arm was quivering like a leaf just barely hanging onto its branch as a windstorm blew by.

"What? Lux asked innocently, holding up her hands in defense. She had made absolutely no move to prevent the possibility of having her head lopped off within half a second if she continued to rub Nocturne the wrong way.

"I did say I wanted to talk face-to-face, didn't I?"

"Such impudence!" Nocturne growled. "Are you such a fool so as to commit suicide in such a way?"

"Of course not! I mean, it's not like I don't know the rules that the League of Legends imposed upon you."

"Then give me one good reason not to break those same rules THIS INSTANT!"

Her hands dropped, but her smile never wavered. Was she so stupid so as to continue smiling when he was barely a foot away, with a blade to her neck? Did she take him for some softie who had no intention of killing her anyways?

_Who the hell did she think he was?_

However, the next few words that came out of her mouth were far more than enough.

"It's because I have answers."

With a blink, Nocturne's eyes went wide. Even wider than normal, in comparison to how large they were on a regular basis. His blade arm froze.

"That's what you want, isn't it?" Lux asked. "What happened on the Summoner's Rift, when you weren't able to use your nightmare attack on me. You want to know why that happened, don't you? It's been bothering you for these past couple days, hasn't it?"

If Nocturne had teeth, he surely would have been gritting them by this point. As much as it angered him, he could not deny that she was right. He wanted to know. Truthfully, at the same time as wanting answers, he wanted to just kill her. Why settle for finding answers if he could just rid himself of the source and be done with it? Too bad the consequence of that course of action would be his own death, so he would have no time to even enjoy the result. To his great dismay and disgust, he was trapped; either put up with Lux's presence as long as she had the answers he was looking for, or just slash off her head and be done with it. Neither was a veritable course of action.

The second choice, however, was the obvious idiot choice.

After maybe another ten seconds, Nocturne slowly, grudgingly lowered his arm.

"Ah, that's better," Lux breathed. She was still smiling brightly, but she was rubbing her neck a little. "You know, it's not a good feeling to have a sword pointed at your throat."

"Push any further and my blade will not be at your throat much longer, Lady of Luminosity," he responded tersely. He was not amused, so this certainly wasn't a time to be joking around in such a way.

"Does that mean you won't threaten me as much as time goes on?"

Nocturne growled. How irritating. He wasn't quite sure if Lux was doing that to intentionally infuriate him, or if it was a legitimate question born of a combination of innocence and idiocy. Either way, it had managed to tick him off rather severely.

However, he didn't have very much time to consider either possibility. The tugging of the nexus fragment suddenly had grown stronger.

Nocturne's head snapped one way, off in the direction of the tiny crystal far from his current position. The sign was obvious; he was being summoned.

"Is something up?"

The three words jabbed at him, but he paid them little mind. Instead, he simply turned back to Lux with a rather unidentifiable face. To be honest, he was a little glad he was suddenly being summoned to the Fields of Justice; this whole matter had managed to frustrate him to no end, and now he would be able to unleash said frustration out on whoever was on the fields with him (except for his own team, of course, much to his dismay).

"You're rather lucky…" he said plainly. "A summoner wishes to call me to the Fields of Justice."

"Oh, is that so?" she said happily. Then she glanced upward thoughtfully, finger on her chin. "How strange; I think someone is trying to summon me now too!"

The thing about summoning magic, when oversaw within the League of Legends, was that it would give whatever champion that was being summoned a warning before they were pulled away for whatever matters the summoning involved (usually for skirmishes in order to train the summoners and hone their skills). This was so that the champions would be able to take care of any trivial tasks they wished to finish before being summoned. The signal usually came as a strange tugging at the back of one's mind, and the familiar pull of a specific strain of magic.

Being so attuned to summoner magic naturally, Nocturne usually got his sign slightly earlier than other champions. It was often a rather welcome sign, as it meant that for the next hour or so, he'd be entertained by the killing that would soon take place on the Fields of Justice.

This time, hearing that Lux was also being summoned at the same time, it was far less of a blessing than usual. But perhaps it would work out in his favor; this was a chance he was waiting for. Now, he could take his time and make sure that her opinion of him changed for the better (figuratively speaking).

"Then perhaps I shall see you on the fields, Lady of Luminosity," he spat. It was honest enough; he wanted to see her, but only for the express purpose of killing her.

"Maybe we will, Nocturne," Lux responded, smiling.

For several moments, neither spoke. Before long, Nocturne could feel the tug of magic grow several times stronger. It was time.

In but a moment that lit the entire hallway in blue light, the two champions vanished, disappearing off to the field that they would do battle on.

* * *

><p>Luck never seemed to side with Nocturne.<p>

Before being sent to their respective sides on the field, whether it be the Summoner's Rift or the Twisted Treeline, both champions and summoners were given a chance to see what the teams looked like on both sides. The champions were placed into a strange, empty black dimension, trapped in circles of light and allowed to examine the two teams, sizing up their effectiveness. No sound could be heard by anyone, a measure set in place by the summoners since some champions had a fairly bad habit of trash-talking during this time.

Two major points in the composition of either team drove Nocturne rather far up the wall, both points concerning people. The first was that one of the members of the opposing team was entirely new, freshly introduced to the League. Four of them, he recognized quickly enough: Sona, the Maven of the Strings, Amumu the Sad Mummy, Veigar, the Tiny Master of Evil, and Xin Zhao, the Seneschal of Demacia. The last was a woman of raven-black hair and incredibly pale complexion, with eyes hidden behind a pair of bloody red shades. On one wrist hung a crossbow, with a much larger one strung across her back.

The newcomer quietly observed both groups with a face that seemed to be a mixture between impassiveness and disgust. When her gaze fell upon Nocturne, the disgusted part of her gaze seemed to amplify tenfold, and the shades did nothing to hide a venomous stare that he himself could barely match.

It interested him, knowing there was someone new for him to torture on the Summoner's Rift, though the venomous stare slightly annoyed him. He would make sure this woman knew his name as the Eternal Nightmare.

The thing was, however, that he was far more annoyed with his _own_ team. For the most part, it was fine, with Annie the Dark Child, Garen, the Might of Demacia, and Rammus the Armordillo. The last member was one person he simply did not want to be on a team with, especially not with Garen around as well.

Naturally, it had to be Lux.

Even without looking out from the corner of his eye, Nocturne could practically tell that Lux was waving at him, surprised and ecstatic that the two of them had been teamed up. He gave no indication he had even noticed. Thankfully, it looked quite a bit like Lux was waving at Garen (who most likely was likewise feigning ignorance), not him, so no misunderstandings would be had.

This was no longer a simple obsession on his part; it was turning into a curse.

* * *

><p><em>Ah, it feels good to have blood on my blades once more.<em>

While he wasn't a particularly disliked champion by some standards, Nocturne often didn't get summoned due to his reputation. But those who chose to take him for a test run usually returned from the summoning halls with words of both fear and praise dropping from their lips, solidly believing that he was one of the most – pun intended – terrifyingly powerful champions they'd ever held reign over. Of course, people seldom ever believed them, but regardless of whether others agreed or not, Nocturne would often find himself summoned multiple times by the same summoners, eager to use him once more.

As it was, Nocturne still wasn't summoned nearly as much as he would have liked. Being summoned meant he was under summoner control, but it also meant he was being given an opportunity to bathe his wristblades in the blood of minions and champions, which was perfectly fine by his standards.

Oh well. You certainly couldn't have everything you wanted, so Nocturne settled for what he _could_ have. And at that moment, it manifested in the form of the Maven of the Strings, and the newbie.

With each new champion, Nocturne would revel in the challenge it would present. What were their strengths and weaknesses? What habits could he exploit? What tell-tale signs could he use to his advantage in later encounters? All these were factors he would file away in his mind after the first couple skirmishes, and since he never rested, he would have all the time in the world to play with the possibilities that could entail. It was one of the many ways he kept things interesting for him in the wake of being trapped for such an ungodly amount of time.

In this case, it came down to the new girl, who was, according to Garen, named Vayne, the Night Hunter. She had apparently forced her way into the League of Legends by somehow sneaking past the advanced magical security systems set in place all around the Institute of War, and demanding to be allowed in. In the wake of such an unprecedented entrance, Nocturne was just slightly impressed; being in the Institute for so long made Nocturne weary and slightly familiar with just how many magical abjuration spells surrounded the mountainside building. Making a way past them without detection was truly a feat.

Regardless, this simply provided yet another target for Nocturne to dissect and examine as he pleased. So far, he was doing well; he had chosen to hide away inside of a large bush in the bottom lane of the Summoner's Rift, while Garen and Vayne fought out in the open. As he watched, he noted down specs for the Night Hunter; aside from her lack of physical power and supposed general fragility for a League champion, Vayne had no truly glaring flaws to her person. Her skill with the crossbow was quite high, shooting and reloading with unerring speed. Her acrobatic ability and endurance were not to be neglected either, as, given the right opponent, she could possibly run, flip, and somersault circles around them.

The two were, surprisingly, reasonably well-matched. Vayne's aim was true, but her tiny crossbow bolts could not penetrate Garen's armor, and for any shot that would pose a true threat, such as aiming for the upper leg, a simple sidestep or sweep of the sword served as a stable defense. Garen's movement speed even when donning heavy armor was stupefying, but for all his speed he could not touch the other, as Vayne proved far too acrobatic, simply tumbling out of the way of the sword before attempting a counterattack.

"If this is truly the Might of Demacia's strength," Vayne jabbed. "Then it is a wonder Demacia has not fallen to darkness yet."

"It is _because _I carry that title that evil fears my name, Night Hunter," Garen countered. "The city-state has no need for vigilantes; justice shall be done!"

It would only be a short time before one overtook the other. Sona had been recalled to the summoning well for some minor recovery and item-shopping purposes. It would be some time before she returned.

A tiny laugh reached Nocturne. It was time to interfere.

A single crooked hand placed itself on the ground, and a string of black snaked outward towards the dueling pair. It passed silently under the battling minions, and reached the two just when Vayne tumbled out of the way of Garen's blade. Perfect.

Just as her tumble ended, a shadowy hand leaped from the ground and seized her by the ankle, bringing it down to the floor with a loud thud.

"Agh! What black magic is this?"

Nocturne cackled loudly, drifting out of the bushes.

Garen saw his chance, and dove for the kill.

But for all his astonishing speed, he was too slow.

CLANG!

Just before he could bring Demacian Justice down upon Vayne, she brought around her giant crossbow to intercept the blow.

Just when surprise registered to the Might of Demacia, a surprise shove from the opposing end sent his sword skyward, just enough time for said crossbow to come around with a crushing blow to the side.

And before Garen could regain his footing, he found himself looking directly at the business end of a crossbow bolt between the eyes.

With little more sound than his sword clattering to the floor, the Might of Demacia fell.

Nocturne blinked unflinchingly at the dead body, watching the soul drift up and away just as his opinion of Garen dropped even lower than before. How disappointing; even when taking the perfect chance to kill an enemy, he fails to do so.

In the end, it rested on him to finish the job.

With indifference, Nocturne swung one of his blades out, beheading two nearby minions. Generous amounts of blood spurted out along the blade's length, and their itch was satiated for but a moment. His eyes flashed a quick red; his lust for blood was triggered. As if through some compulsory response, his other blade lashed out as well, killing off another two minions with complete nonchalance.

Vayne shifted her crossbow back over her shoulder, rising from the sudden drop she had been given. She readjusted her smaller crossbow slightly – seemingly out of habit – before reloading it. But the bolt was slightly different; the tip was wider, like an assault-type arrow, and seemed to glow with a strange aura.

"The purifying element…" she breathed, admiring the bolt with some form of reverence. Her gaze shot back to Nocturne. "Impure fool! I bring swift death to the likes of you!"

Nocturne stared back with blood in his eyes. He growled, and exploded with black power, draping the immediate battlefield with a choking cloud of darkness.

"The light is fading…" he rasped as the veil dropped down, obscuring the vision of the one that was only human, and doing nothing to obstruct the other. "Your twilight approaches, Night Hunter… and help is not coming."

At that, he lunged.

"_Suffer eternally!"_

He swung once, aiming for the heart. But his blade met open air.

For but a second, surprise registered itself to Nocturne. The next, his arm instinctively snapped left, and a crossbow bolt bounced off his blade with a loud clang. He lunged again, intending to cleave Vayne in two. His blade met all but flesh once more.

"Trying to hit me is like boxing with shadows," Vayne called from beyond the veil. "I've hunted far worse than you on nights darker than this. Seeing through it is no problem for me!"

Nocturne let forth a yell, swiping at Vayne. But for all his speed, he could not touch her; her acrobatics proved far superior to one who did little more than float there.

CRACK!

"Argh!" he cried out as something smashed into his back. He may have been a shadow being, but that did not mean he could not feel pain.

_Twang!_

SHUNK!

"AGH!"

KRSH!

The darkness faded nearly instantly. A humongous crossbow bolt easily several times the size of a normal one was impaled straight through Nocturne's chest, just a finger's breadth away from punching right through the center. He was slightly lucky in this regard; had the bolt pierced the center of the broken-glass marking on his chest, he would have been killed instantly, falling apart until nothing remained. But as it was, he was thrown back a great distance, the bolt ending its flight by embedding itself into the nearest wall.

Yet he was still alive.

Pain. So much pain. No other time when he was struck by a weapon had it ever been this painful. Unimaginable agony racked Nocturne's near-ethereal body.

But before he could even regain his senses long enough to reach for the massive bolt in pain, another bolt punched into his hand, nailing it to the wall as well. And then another, stabbing into his other hand.

"_AAAAAAAGH!"_

How! How was it that these arrows could hurt so much? The Frost Archer's arrows were not nearly as painful. HOW?

His mind could not process the thought; for the first time, he felt true agony, and he could not fight it. The bolts felt like poison in his body, eroding it the longer they remained stabbed into him.

And then his blank whites, almost unseeing, saw Vayne upon him, her crossbow aimed straight for his heart. For some reason, he noticed a strange orange glow coming from the corner of his eye.

"Nocturne, you are a creature of darkness embodied. You have killed many before being chained here, and continue to find pleasure in those you slaughter. You are condemned."

Her hand twitched, about to pull the trigger.

"Nocturne!"

The sudden shout was enough to divert Vayne's attention, and her hand slackened.

Several white ropes lashed out from outside Nocturne's vision, snaring Vayne in place.

At that moment, beyond the pain of the bolts, Nocturne understood; Lux had come to his aid.

"What the… what is this?" Vayne blurted out in disbelief. "What are you doing, Lady of Luminosity?"

Said person calmly walked into Nocturne's field of vision, grinning widely at the one who had nearly killed him just now.

"Sorry, but you're not killing him today~" she cooed. "Here!"

She flourished her baton, and a white ghost-image of it flew out, spinning like a bola. It passed by Vayne and through Nocturne, and the moment it did, the perfect sphere of her Prismatic Barrier spell enveloped him. In that second, he realized what was about it happen; she was charging her laser.

Even at this distance, he could feel the immense amount of magical power beginning to gather. Lux began to float off the ground from the flow of magic, the ends of her baton shining brighter than before as it spun in front of her of its own accord. A red targeting beam drew itself across the air, centering on the immobile Night Hunter.

"Fool!" Vayne cried out. "You would obliterate me like this? You're making a horrible mistake!"

She didn't seem to care about the fact that they were on opposing teams when she said that.

"No I'm not," Lux refused. "I never think about losing."

A vast quantity of light had gathered around the center of her baton now. It was ready to fire.

With a cheeriness that could be managed by none other than her, she let out her thunderous battle cry.

"DEMACIA!"

PWA-SHOOM!

Even behind a shield, the ray of light burned with greater intensity than the sun. Nocturne had closed his eyes the moment before it fired, yet it still felt like his nonexistent pupils had been partially burned out.

When he opened them once more, stars continued to shine in his eyes. There was nothing left of the Night Hunter now.

"Are you alright?"

The shield dissipated in a second, and then several tendrils of light came into view, taking hold of the three bolts still pinning him to the wall. With great effort, they were torn from both the rock wall – which was crumbling somewhat due to a sudden lack of stone in the middle of it, but was magically self-repairing – and the Eternal Nightmare in a single yank.

"ARGH!" The unceremonious ripping of three crossbow bolts was not the only reason for his pain, though it certainly played a large part in it; something in the bolts seemed to be proving immensely destructive to his person.

"Ack! Are you okay?"

Nocturne growled in response, regaining composure. His hand lay over the gaping hole in his chest, and even as he did so, he could feel the hole slowly closing itself. The self-repair did nothing for the damage already done, and a few more hits would still bring him down. But at least doing so kept up his usual outward appearance.

"Ah, looks like you're fine," Lux breathed, wiping some sweat off her forehead. "That was a really close one. Good thing my summoner picked up the Teleport spell for this battle, or I never would have made it in time!"

He only grunted.

This did not bode well; the one Nocturne hated the most had just saved his life in battle. Whether or not the battles on the Fields of Justice ever had fatal casualties or not didn't matter; he now owed his life to her, something that he never owed to _anyone_. He had absolutely no intention of living up to any form of obligation that came with this; he was a being of darkness, and he worked alone. _Nothing_ would change that!

Yet in the end, something within him boiled up; it was something akin to gratitude. He could not be sure if that was what it was or not, as he had never before felt something such as this, yet it was the only word he could find that could match the strange feeling he was getting burrowed deep inside of his empty chest.

_Inconceivable! I cannot be feeling something like that! The very idea is preposterous!_

"You will get no thanks from me, Lady of Luminosity," Nocturne retorted. "I did not ask for your help."

Lux didn't even flinch at that; she simply tilted her head one way and smiled the same smile she always had. "That's fine."

Words could not even _begin_ to describe how angry he was. But there was nothing for it; he could not express it here, as to do so would mean instant restraint from his summoner, preventing him from even getting close to killing Lux on his own.

Then a tinkle of musical notes touched Nocturne from afar. He whirled around, blade at the ready. Just as he expected, a wave of sound bounced off of his blade.

It was Sona. She had finally returned after leaving Vayne to fend for herself. She did not need words to express her displeasure at finding that her lane partner was dead; her facial expression and clattering of quick, cacophonous notes from her etwahl were enough.

As if at her command, two more champions came from behind her: Xin Zhao and Amumu.

The latter of the two threw out a long bandage at the Eternal Nightmare, wrapping it tightly around his blade and arm. The second it connected, he quickly pulled himself towards Nocturne, flying with amazing speed.

At that moment, Nocturne swung his arm over himself, cutting the bandage with his other blade at the same time.

"Waaaa-oof!"

The Sad Mummy was thrown, landing neatly in the gnarled claw of a gigantic, flaming bear.

"Eep!"

It was Annie; she had come to join the fight.

But just as the shadow bear Tibbers flung him away over a wall like a puppet doll, an immense blast of magic lit up behind the bear, and it crumpled to the floor, dissolving into red-black mist and resuming its usual imprisoned form of a normal teddy bear.

"Ah! Tibbers!"

An high-pitched evil cackle came from a short distance away; it was Veigar.

"No one hurts my Tibbers like that!"

The Dark Child immediately began chasing the fleeing Tiny Master of Evil, the fire in her palm growing larger in response to her anger.

Nocturne turned away just in time to realize he had let his guard down; the Seneschal of Demacia was quickly charging at him.

"Demacia!"

He leapt high into the air, intending to impale Nocturne with his spear. But before he could execute this, a spiky orange blur leapt from the bush and tackled him out of the sky. It was Rammus.

"No," the Armordillo said simply, denying his enemy of a potential kill.

Lux nodded at him, and began scaling the magically-repairing wall with the intention of chasing down Amumu.

Nocturne yelled out. His enemy had been decided; it was time for him to make good on it. He would enjoy the blood he found.

Without hesitation, he lunged at the Maven of the Strings.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Author's Notes:<span>**_

And here it is. After so long of not being able to write this out properly, I've finally posted the third chapter of this fanfic. I apologize to everyone who read the previous chapter and was ticked at the massive cliffhanger I left it at. That wasn't quite my intention there, and I'm sorry for being a douche.

This will sound rather bad on my part, but I honestly still do not understand why the initial reception for this story was so popular. but nonetheless, I am immensely grateful for how well this is being received, and once again I thank everyone who has interacted with this story thus far, and hope you continue to do so later on.

It was mostly the median part between the summoning and the fight with Vayne that I had trouble with, since I had almost no idea what to put there. But once I got past that (this took quite a while, really), getting the rest done was a breeze. After such a long wait, I seriously hope that this chapter is satisfactory, despite the fights being so short. That is one of my realms of writing that I still need to improve on; fight scenes. I hope that with later chapters and more encounters on the fields, I will be able to sharpen this skill and use it in later writing. I tried to continue the sense of realism from the first chapter I made, in that fatal blows _will be fatal_. In-game, you can rip apart enemies with any of the champions in any way you perceive as possible, and nothing will happen until you deplete their health bar. That's not gonna happen here; you get slashed or shot, it's going to hurt (Caitlyn and Miss Fortune are gonna be hard to balance for this reason), and if something smacks you in the head, you'll be lucky if it doesn't kill you. I hope I can keep that up.

Ah, quoting dialogue straight from the game is fun. Some of the lines that the champions use are just plain awesome (Nasus is a particularly prominent example here, I'd say). Just compare some of the lines I use in the latter half of the chapter with known statements and quotes listed on the Wikia page, and you'll see just how much I actually used.

Thank you all for being so patient (I hope). The next chapter to be written is going to be the reason by this story has the M rating. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter~


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: All names, places, and characters used in the following story are property of Riot Games.

**Warning: This chapter contains sexually explicit content which some may find offensive. If you do not wish to read this chapter, please skip over to the next one (when it arrives).**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 4: An 'Evelynn' Of Terror<strong>_

* * *

><p>It shouldn't have been possible to obsess over something even more than before. That was what Nocturne believed. Or rather, <em>had<em> believed, since now, his obsession over a certain Luxanna Crownguard had only managed to increase twofold since that battle with the Night Hunter. Going on to eventually achieve victory had only a little to do with it.

In all honesty, this time, watching the enemy nexus shatter beneath the relentless assault of might and magic wasn't nearly as satisfying as any other time he'd seen it. Perhaps it was because he was still shaken by the incident with Lux saving his life from the Night Hunter when he had been absolutely sure that he would die.

Now, a slew of new questions were bombarding him, stacked on top of the ones that were already plaguing him. First and foremost, of course, was why she had saved him on the Summoner's Rift at all? Had their roles been reversed, it would have been a no-brainer; Nocturne would have left Lux to be killed, and then taken care of Vayne on his own. Given, there was the tactical advantage in having a comrade when engaging the enemy, and in the end, Lux had been the last one left to chase after someone on the enemy team, but that had simply never mattered to Nocturne. He worked, and worked well, alone, and preferred it that way. The Eternal Nightmare did not share his prey, and he had no intention of starting now.

Yet the past few days had involved nothing _but_ that. Nocturne had been called back to the Fields of Justice a total of nine times in five days – five to the Summoner's Rift, and four to the Twisted Treeline. Of those nine, _three_ had conspired against him in placing him and Lux on the same team, and none had chosen to favor his wish to fight her on opposing sides. And during all three of those, Lux insisted on staying with him nearly _everywhere he went._ If he was in the jungle, Lux wouldn't be too far behind. In the lane, she would always be close by. Even though there was still the tactical advantage of staying in a group of two, the fact in and of itself that _anyone_ wanted to accompany _him_ of all people was absolutely _infuriating._ Worse still, was that she had even dared to attempt making small talk with him on several occasions. If anything, this would be far more than enough for Nocturne to fly off the handle.

Fortunately for the Institute of War, this didn't happen. Having six other matches meant having six spare outlets through which he could vent his frustration. Champions were not the only ones on the receiving end of his severely limited limited wrath; the reason he was summoned so many times over the course of five days was because the League had experienced a large influx of greenhorn summoners, so they needed practice with real-time summoning, and to learn the basics of combat and control on the Fields of Justice. Nocturne was hardly tailor-made for greenhorns to practice with, and he made sure that those who chose him learned that lesson quickly, or learned to regret it.

The odd thing was, within those nine battles, Nocturne had actually been summoned _twice_ by the same person, once on either field. Even more strange, was that he somehow vaguely recognized the summoner. Being one who used to drift through mentalities on a regular basis, Nocturne was highly adept at noting and later recognizing mental 'fingerprints' left whenever a summoner and champion were bonded together during a match (it was how he knew that he often got summoned by the same people over and over again). Each person's signature was unique, so as long as he had been summoned once by someone, or had touched their mind via nightmare attacks, then he would be able to draw up their matching signature on a later date.

Perhaps the weirdest point was that this summoner was the same girl he had nearly killed a few days past.

_You are?_ he asked tersely upon her greeting.

_M-my name is… Marlene_ she answered nervously. _I'm-_

_The one I nearly beheaded several days ago, I know_ he cut off. A light squeak came in response. The reason he cut her off wasn't only because he remembered, but also because it was a good scare tactic, knowing and exploiting a person's negative experiences, regardless of if they were nightmarish or not.

_And now you choose to summon me?_

_Y-yes, that's right… Um, I-_

_Listen to me, summoner,_ he spat. _Know this well; I am Nocturne, the Eternal Nightmare. For now, I am yours to control, but unless you wish not to live to see the new dawn, then do not get in my way!_

_Y-yes, Nocturne, I-I understand!_

It was satisfying, asserting dominance like this.

On the other hand, however, he was mildly impressed by the tactical prowess displayed by the one named Marlene. Though her heat was weak, her mind was strong, and she showed a rather astute mastery of micro-tactical assault, specializing in ambushes and small-number conflicts. While this did not make Nocturne any less hateful towards the very notion of obeying sumoners, nor did it win any respect from him, it _did_ give him enough incentive to follow her commands a little more. Just a little, as doing so proved helpful to his chances of winning and, in the process, killing more champions.

To prove the point, both matches had ended in victory for Nocturne's team, with his kill count going upwards of at least two or three on each enemy champion, and his own death count kept at a minimum.

However, the greatest portion of the deaths he accumulated over the nine battles were at the hands of Vayne. Thrice more, he had encountered her, and all three times, she proved to be the most irritating champion he'd ever met after Lux. Her acrobatic attacks proved incredibly annoying, the toxicity of her bolts – which he eventually discovered were crafted from high-quality silver fitting of nobles – made him wary, and her lack of fear versus his usual powers of darkness were slightly disconcerting, to say the least. She was the only champion that had managed to elicit any form of caution from him, and it jabbed at him in ways unimaginable.

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><p>Nocturne never rested, but finally having a day when he wasn't being summoned was somewhat relaxing, especially since it was three days after the newbie-summoning session. Multiple summons within a short amount of time proved taxing on the champions being summoned. Even Nocturne was not fully immune to this, though he was considerably more resilient against exhaustion due to his non-organic nature.<p>

Yet there were times when he wished he was able to close his eyes and sleep like any fleshbag could (or even like Blitzcrank, who could at least put himself into sleep mode). It was a rare desire that seldom came up, but in cases where being awake simply proved inconvenient, sleep would be something he preferred.

Now was a fairly good example of that; Nocturne was not immune to exhaustion from multiple summoning, and did not enjoy the sensation of being 'tired.' Nightmares were restless, and such was his own nature.

But that wasn't all. Something was bothering him. Something that seemed to be drawing from him a feeling akin to worry, though he adamantly denied any relation to the word. A better word for it would probably be frustration. He had heard something while passing by groups of summoners in the halls of the Institute.

Lux was missing.

Champions going missing, though not necessarily uncommon, usually stirred up news incredibly fast. Normally, champions went around doing whatever business they wanted, and the summoners would know where they went, like how Gragas almost always stayed at his house down near the Great Barrier, Karthus remained in the Howling Marsh (this was more often for the safety of those in the Institute, for obvious reasons), or how Nasus sometimes visited the Shurima Desert because it reminded him of his home. However, on some occasions, a champion would simply vanish for a day or two with no explanations as to how they disappeared. Then they would reappear with a reason for their sudden absence. But now, Lux had been gone for three whole days. No one was able to offer any information on where she could possibly have gone, and soon, fingers were going to be pointed in directions that would prove unfavorable to the existence of the League. Messengers from Demacia confirmed that she had not come home during that time, and no one in the Institute of War had seen her anywhere. The worse of it came when it was discovered that, somehow, she could not be summoned. Something was blocking the channel of summoning magic.

No doubt, the head summoners of the League were attempting to determining the best course of action. The citizens of Demacia were largely unaware of the situation, but once the news leaked out, it would spread faster than a wildfire, raising an uproar the likes of Valoran had yet to see. Garen, Jarvan IV, and Xin Zhao were all asking the League to act quickly, so as to save the continent from being torn asunder.

Eventually, justice would be done.

Normally, a matter like this would be of little to no concern to the Eternal Nightmare. In fact, he would most likely revel in the incident, feasting upon the many fears that would be generated by the many sides of the conflict. In his current state, however, those statements simply did not prove true. As much as it made him sick to his nonexistent stomach, Lux _did_ hold a _tiny_ shred of importance to him as a source of answers for his questions, so finding her actually ran parallel to his own interests.

Aside from that, however, was that someone had issued a challenge to him the day Lux went missing. The only signature on the note had been the symbol of a black bat.

It had read _Find her if you can._

At the outset, he had discarded and ignored the challenge entirely, since trivial tasks like this meant nothing to him. Now that he understood what the challenge meant, he knew exactly who had issued such a stupid request.

_You must be begging for death to take you, Night Hunter_ he thought.

Such was the task Nocturne was currently pursuing. If the note had specifically been sent to him and no one else, then Lux could not be anywhere outside the Institute of War, since he was unable to leave the building by any means anyhow. At the same time, since his search zone was so narrow, all he had to do was search the halls of the Institute where people seldom tread. There weren't many halls like that, further narrowing his necessary search areas, but they all resided in several corners around the building a fair distance from each other, making the task a little more difficult. Or rather, just more time-consuming, as Nocturne knew the halls of the Institute with nearly flawless recall. So far, he'd already scoured two of the five corners that fit the description, and, finding nothing, was about to start a third.

_How troublesome, this is._

As he traveled down the hall – freely, as there was no one around – that was the most prevalent thought he had circulating his mind. This was the first time he'd ever gone out of his way to try and find someone, and he certainly never expected Lux to be that person. He never did this sort of thing for two reasons; one, he had his reputation to keep up, and two, no one would want to be sought out by him anyways. He had assumed that something like this would never happen.

At least, until now. And it was driving him crazy.

But now, it seemed like his search was finally coming to an end.

The noise came first. The senses of a nightmare – or Nocturne in particular – were surprisingly sharp, and he could often see or hear things at distances or in ways beyond human levels. For this reason, the sounds he was hearing, which he couldn't quite identify yet, were still quite a long way down the hall, since the stone walls carried sound to some extent.

Though Nocturne was slightly surprised; apparently, Vayne was making no effort whatsoever to keep things silent. Since few people came through this hall anyway, her lack of effort wasn't necessarily stupid, but it still seemed rather careless on her part.

As he drew closer, he noticed the noise to be in some form of staccato, punctuated at even intervals.

How interesting; was Vayne subjecting Lux to some form of torture?

The screams steadily grew louder, one after the other. Before he knew it, Nocturne was starting to get excited, his blades beginning to itch. Those screams were no different from the ones he heard anytime he managed to surprise an enemy, and either laid them low with evisceration before they could even blink, or attacked their memories and overran them with fear. It was what he lived for.

It took a bit of effort to remind himself that he was not here to join Vayne in her endeavors, regardless of what they were. She had challenged him, and thought she could use Lux to draw him out. In its own twisted way, it had worked, and for that, he would make her pay.

In only moments, Nocturne was right outside the door from which the sounds had come from, but was silent now. He had sunk into the ground, ready to strike. And he passed under the door, making not the slightest sound.

From where he was on the floor, little could be seen, so he crawled up the wall, and onto the ceiling.

Two magic lanterns were bolted into the wall, shedding enough low light to illuminate most of the room, but not enough to expose Nocturne. At the center stood Vayne, immobile at the moment, with both her crossbows lying against a wall to her right, under a lantern. In one hand was some form of riding crop, a flexible stick of at least two-and-a-half feet in length with a widened tip, and strewn around her were several other tools that could also be used to torturous ends; clamps, candles, and a whip were only a couple of them, and Nocturne didn't feel bothered to name or recognize any more.

In one corner lay a small pile consisting of Lux's armor, clothes and baton. Said Lady of Luminosity was chained to the wall, arms over her head, opposite the door, wearing nothing more than a sackcloth shirt and pants. They may as well have been tattered rags for all it mattered, since taking a crop to them had managed to leave the cloth torn in many places, with glaring red marks left where it had struck.

Then there were the runes. In a glowing blue circle inscribed around Lux was a string of runes, as if caging her in some way. Just seeing the runes seemed to agitate his bond with his nexus crystal, and at that, Nocturne almost instinctively knew what they were for; it was an anti-magic field, effectively serving as a counter for summoning magic, which could not get past it, and Lux's own abilities, which were nullified so long as she remained inside its area of effect.

Admittedly, aside from the lack of a sound canceller, this was rather thorough.

The Night Hunter seemed impassive, yet at the same time impatient. "For three days, you've gone hungry, and today, I decided more extreme methods were necessary. Yet you still refuse to yield. What will it take, Luxanna? What will it take to break your relation with that corrupted shadow?"

A shot of anger spiked into Nocturne. _This_ was what Lux's absence was all about? She did not seem to understand that this relation between the two was only one-sided. Now Vayne would _surely_ be punished for her insolence.

The breaths of the Lady of Luminosity were heavy, but she looked up with a face unmarred by any strikes from a crop, and with a smile. "But what's wrong with being friends with Nocturne?"

Silence immediately walked into the room. Two people were absolutely appalled by the gravity of her statement.

Some would agree that there was a limit to how angry any person could get before reaching a threshold where it would not be possible to get any more enraged.

Those who did had obviously never met Nocturne.

_Friend? FRIEND?_ That term had NO PLACE in their relation _**WHATSOEVER!**_ How dare she use such a term so frivolously. How dare she be so arrogant so as to assume such a change like this ever took place!

How dare she… how dare she try to make a "friend" out of _**HIM!**_

For a few moments, Nocturne was so _incredibly __**furious**_ that he could not even move, and he very nearly lost focus and dropped out of the ceiling. Vayne was under no such compunctions, and remained in full reign of her motor controls.

Calmly, she drew a box-like contraption from her belt – a walkie-talkie constructed through techmaturgy – and spoke into it.

"She refuses to cooperate. You may come."

A reply was not given, but Vayne slipped the device back into her belt.

"Luxanna Crownguard," she delivered with an incredibly level tone, but also with a voice of conviction. "You may be a practitioner of light magic, and a member of the Crownguard family. But you choose to associate with an evil being of darkness and shadows, and refuse to disassociate yourself from it. You have been corrupted by darkness, and can no longer redeem yourself. You shall be punished, and once your punishment has been exacted, you shall be condemned."

As if her last words were the result of a trigger for some unknown flag, a pillar of light surrounded by a circle of runes spawned in a corner of the room, nearly shedding enough light to pull Nocturne out of the ceiling. When it receded, a summoner dressed in standard dark purple robes stood in its place, hood up.

As Nocturne passed from the ceiling down to the wall, he saw the symbol on the side of the summoner's hood, stating that this person was aligned with Demacia. Fitting; Vayne was a Demacian champion, for one thing, and for another, definitely would not go to any other represented city-state or country for help in setting something like this up, after all. She was, after all, a Demacian vigilante.

The hood was pulled back to reveal a teenage boy of raven black hair with orange stripes, like that of a tiger. It took a quick moment, but Nocturne realized that this boy was one of the same two summoners he had seen chatting with Lux nearly a week ago.

So he had been right.

His beady black eyes spoke of insanity, as if he had been brainwashed into doing this. But what could one say; love made you crazy. His hands were twitching incessantly.

Perhaps 'love' wasn't quite the right word for it. It was more like 'lust'.

"So, I've done everything you asked for, Vayne," he said a bit nervously, as if still in disbelief that this kind of an opportunity was presenting itself to him. "That means that I'm allowed to, right? You promised me this as a reward if I helped."

"Yes, I gave my word," Vayne agreed. "You may do as you please. But I will warn you once more; if you choose to do this, then I will condemn you as well. Do you truly value your life so little?"

"I've given up on my notions of life, Night Hunter," he responded, rubbing his hands together. "All these conflicts, wars… I've had enough of them. If I can enjoy something before I die, then it will all be worth it!"

He started forward. For the first time, from where he was on the floor, Nocturne noticed an expression akin to worry flash across Lux's face. No doubt she recognized the summoner as well.

"Wait…."

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this, Luxanna…."

His wicked smile grew slightly wider as he creeped closer and closer. At the same time, Vayne was backing towards the door, ready to leave them to do their business.

"Don't worry. I promise I'll be-"

He gasped, and froze, surprise etching into his face.

"What do you think you're doing…?"

From his pool of darkness, Nocturne rose like the spawn of Icathia he truly was.

The summoner stared in horror, as if having completely forgotten that there was a very large wristblade at his neck, cutting into his Adam's apple.

"You!"

WHOOSH!

Too slow. Vayne had been about to dive for her weapons, ready to slay the enemy she had drawn out of hiding, but before she could even try, Nocturne had moved, choking the summoner in one hand, the other blade at the neck of the Night Hunter.

Silence.

Nocturne stared coldly at Vayne, his grip tight but also just loose enough for the boy to breath. And in a deathly chilling tone, he rasped "From this day forth, you are not to harm the Lady of Luminosity outside of the Fields of Justice. You will retrieve your weapons, and leave immediately. You will speak of this incident to no one. Do not comply, and this summoner will die." He shook the boy violently to make his point. "Am I clear?"

Her venomous stare seemed to penetrate into Nocturne, but he betrayed nothing. In fact, even without trying, the poison in his own eyes far outstripped anything Vayne – or even the Mad Chemist – could possibly manage.

"You are Hellspawn," she said roughly. "Yet you'd be willing to prote-"

"_**NO!"**_ Nocturne roared, his enraged cry echoing endlessly around the room. "Do not mistake me! I do not guard the Lady out of necessity. The future is to see her death by _my hand! She is my prey and __**mine alone!"**_

In such a closed space, the reverberations shook with incredible force, as if outright refusing to die. Once they did, not even the sounds of a whimpering summoner dared to continue, so terrified was the boy.

After about ten seconds, Vayne began to back away slowly. She slung her gigantic crossbow over her shoulder, then picked up the smaller one and refastened it back onto a brace on her right wrist. Then, without turning her gaze away, she continued to back up until she reached the door. She opened it behind her, stepped out, and pulled it shut.

Nocturne waited, listening for the footsteps to leave the hall. They walked away with a steady beat, until they were no more.

Once he was absolutely sure they were gone, Nocturne growled, and flung the whimpering summoner to the floor.

"Your name," he said bluntly.

"A-ah, um… I-I, uh, th-th-th-that's, i-it's L-Leo, sir!"

"Dispel this anti-magic circle at once," he commanded.

"Y-y-yes, r-right away!" In his hurried scramble, his arms and legs seemed reluctant to move out of fear. All the same, the moment the one named Leo managed to place a hand on the circle of runes, he began speaking, inciting a disenchantment incantation. After a few attempts to clear his throat, and over the course of several fumbled lines, the runes began to dissipate at last, the magic dispelled.

The instant that happened, Nocturne seized Leo by the hood and made him stand. He eyed the symbol of Demacia with disgust, then spoke. "You shall not speak of this either, summoner. Do not underestimate my power; I know who you are now. And as you should already know, I have a very wide variety of skills. Skiils that I've been born with, and have exercised upon many that have not lived to tell the tale. Skills that will make me more of a nightmare for you than I already am. If you do not speak, then that will be the end of it, I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you do, then I _will_ look for you, I _will_ find you, and I _will_ kill you! Do you understand?"

Several very fast, very hurried nods came in response.

"Good…."

Without pause, Nocturne threw him again. "Now leave my sight, vermin!"

The second, he finished tumbling, the tiger-haired boy scrambled to his feet and dashed out the door, frightful squeaks at his heels and the door slamming shut behind him.

Silence.

"Nocturne…."

He turned back to see an astonished Lux staring at him.

"You… saved me…."

Her words grated on him. His eyes narrowed in dispassion.

She smiled. "Tha-mph!"

A pair of shadowy hands had come out from behind the light mage's head, clamping her mouth shut before her thanks could be finished.

From behind the anti-magic field, she had not sensed the billowing clouds of darkness that had been dropping off the Eternal Nightmare since he first came out of the floor. She had not been using her eyes enough.

The clouds had spread all around the room now, wrapping Lux in a quilt of black cloth, the light of the lanterns concealed and snuffed out.

His figure was just barely visible within the canvas of endless darkness he had created.

"I did not save you, Lady of Luminosity…."

He melted away into his cloud.

"Because now, no one can save you from me…."

A sound of surprise came from beneath the hands.

Before she could pull on her restraints any further, black chains lashed her arms tightly to the stone wall behind them. Several more lengths leapt out of the wall, encircling her neck, abdomen, and legs, locking her into a spread-eagle position.

"_This… is for forcing me to perform a quasi-Good act…."_

Hands. Tens of them, fashioned with wicked sharpness, came swimming out of the cloud. They crawled up slowly, inching along Lux's skin without hurry, sending chills up her spine and down her body in ways she'd never felt before.

"_Swim in terror!"_

Without warning, several hands took hold of the torn shirt and ripped it to shreds, exposing her medium-sized breasts. Her startled yelp fell upon deafness, and she began vigorously shaking her head. Nocturne paid it no mind, and proceeded to do the same to her damaged trousers, revealing a pair of lacy white underwear. Unflinchingly, he tore those away as well.

Lux's scream came out muffled, unable to make it past the blackened seal over her mouth.

He was showing no signs of stopping; he would show the Lady of Luminosity the true meaning of fear. If nightmares would not reach her, then perhaps this would….

The concept of foreplay never even crossed Nocturne's mind; two hands immediately grabbed hold of Lux's breasts and squeezed. Her initial surprised jerk was joined by a second as another hand dove between her legs. Fingers pinched at her nipples, pulling them outward and eliciting a cry of pain. The pressing, stroking at her womanhood quickened her breath.

All sealed behind a black mask. She could not move. She could not resist.

"_So… Lady of Luminosity…" _he rasped. His face was visible from within the shadows, his cold white eyes looking like a pair of ghostly lights. _"Are you my nightmare… or am I yours?"_

She did not respond, only able to pant heavily. Dissatisfied, the Eternal Nightmare squeezed even harder, and pressed further inward.

Her continued squeals struck chords inside of Nocturne, and his own form of sick desires began to manifest. He detested humans immensely, but for so long he had tortured them that he knew exactly what caused a woman the greatest pleasure, but also some of the greatest pain.

The two claws clamped over Lux's mouth were pulled away, allowing her to savor a single breath of tainted air. And with joyful glee, Nocturne repositioned one of the hands molesting the light mage, and shoved upward.

"AAAAAH!"

With a strangely detached sensation, Nocturne's fingers could feel her hymen being torn. She had lost the one thing that should be given to no one other than a man that she found to love. Every moment of this, she suffered a little more.

And he was enjoying every second of it.

He paused, drinking in the sight of the panting, broken teenager that had just lost her virginity, feeling the slow trickle of both blood and vaginal juice dripping down his hand. She didn't seem to want to look up, but could not help it; a single hand was pulling up her chin to stare Nocturne straight in the eye.

Unfocused, solid blue eyes unable to change colors due to the lack of light were reflected in the whites of the shadow before them. Thin tears streamed from the edges.

"_Are you afraid yet?"_ he asked with a feeling of elation. Her scream of anguish was still echoing in his head.

Again, no response was given. At least, not immediately. Lux's eyes drifted shut, though her breathing did not slow down in the slightest.

The next action she took came as the greatest surprise Nocturne had ever known.

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

"… more…."

White eyes blinked in disbelief, so wide that you could mistake them for full circles of incredulity.

"Don't… just stop… keep going…."

The panting voice fell crashing around his ears.

At the same time, the black illusion began to fall away, dissolving as ice would melt in the summer sun. The physical form of the Eternal Nightmare came back into existence, floating there with a stunned expression upon his face.

As the darkness disappeared, so too did the black chains binding Lux in place. The moment they started to vanish, the limp, exhausted body of the Lady of Luminosity fell, held up by nothing but the steel manacles still tightly gripping her wrists. She had completely passed out, a product of being deprived of food and then being subjected to such strenuous activity.

For several seconds, Nocturne remained frozen, attempting to comprehend what had just transpired.

With nary a word, he swung out with his blades, slashing through the two chains like they were little more than paper.

And dropped back into the darkness.

He passed under the door leading out, then climbed up the wall to travel along the ceiling once more. He started out, well aware that there were still no people.

After several minutes of silent crawling involving a flight of stairs and several hallways, he found a small knot of assorted summoners from the factions of Piltover and Demacia chatting excitedly about a topic he cared not to hear.

"Summoners!"

Instinct forced all their heads to look upward and it took them a short moment to realize someone had spoken to them. But they did not know who it was.

"The one you are searching for…."

"Nocturne?"

A familiar face stepped out of the crowd, revealing a plain face and brown-black hair. It was Marlene. "Is that you?"

How interesting, to suddenly run into her. But he didn't care about that.

"Third floor, northern corridors… fourth door on the right. You will find her…."

Before any of the summoners could process his message, he had already begun moving away.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Author's Notes:<span>**_

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EVERYONE!

Of all days to post this chapter, I wound up doing so on the night that Riot has its second birthday. Isn't that rather apt! Riot grows older by a year, and now this story has another chapter~

It was quite a while since I last posted, however, due to a good amount of schoolwork, activities, and other distractions keeping me from writing this. Admittedly, a lot of that was actually self-induced, so I'm sorry for being so goddamned slow about releasing these. But all the same, the still-steady flow of people further interacting with this story continues to provide a good source of motivation, and obviously, I can't just leave this story alone anymore. I'm going to try and finish it by the end of the year 2011, so I can then further focus my attention to other things.

Of course, that's probably not going to happen. But I can certainly try!

Anyways... I'm pretty sure harukashinigami4 is happy now, since she's finally getting the chapter she wants. Though it hasn't been very constant, she's been asking for the smut in this chapter for quite a while now, and in fact just asked me two days ago where this chapter was. I promised her that I'd have it by the time Riot turns two, and here it is.

I realized now that I actually made Nocturne far softer in this fanfic than how he's, I feel inclined to believe, 'supposed to be portrayed'. It makes me feel kind of stupid because he's supposed to be far nastier and hateful of humans than what I show here. I mean, canonically, he's locked/chained in his cell at all times, and when one of the reporters of the Journal of Justice comes down for an interview, Nocturne's first reaction is to make an attempt at killing him, only being stopped by the bars of the cell. But for all it's worth, some people seem to agree that I have Nocturne's personality taken down regardless of whether it's canon or not. So I guess I'll take it as is.

I have a good portion of the next chapter written out, and it's actually well-planned in my head, so it should come out much sooner. Thank you very much for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter~

P.S: Directed at those who actually read through the full chapter (which I'm expecting to be maybe all of the people reading this last note right now), I wish for your opinion; was the smut at least decent? I'm hardly experienced at writing these sorts of things, though that's not to say I'm incapable, but I want to know the thoughts of those who read this. To be honest, it was kind of rushed in order to make this deadline (since it's basically a rape scene, that may actually come off as a _good_ thing), but despite that, was it okay? If I were to write a more, for lack of a better word, passionate scene, what could it possibly involve? If you're offering a review, please say something about this. Thank you.


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